


Another Day

by DizzyBunnies



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Whump, griffon form Rakan at one point probably, incredibly self indulgent lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29145531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyBunnies/pseuds/DizzyBunnies
Summary: Xayah and Rakan adventure a lot. They save townspeople, free magic, and celebrate with cheap wine.What happens when said wine is infused with a poison that gives the couple a few days to find a cure?Or:Rakan is poisoned. Can the two lovebirds find a cure before its too late? And who did the poisoning; was it the Shadow Acolytes?
Relationships: Rakan/Xayah (League of Legends)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NYELLO everyone!!
> 
> this is my first (and probably only) LoL fanfic! i love love love xayah and rakan; always have, most likely always will. i still watch their release trailer to this day and i get as giddy as i did when i first watched it :')) i have them both mastery 6 and all their skins and so i think the only thing that could do them more justice as my faves would be to A) get them to mastery 7 but since im trash at this awful game, i'll opt for B) which is to write an angsty fanfic :'))
> 
> enjoy! <3

Another day. Another chance to free the magic Ionian Vastaya desperately need. Although the sun barely peaks through the clouds, the woods roar with morning life. It’s beautiful, really; but there are far more important things than beauty. Speaking of which, I crane my neck behind myself to look down at my robe. The feathers are mucky from yesterday’s fight, but it doesn’t concern me. I can clean them later.

I sit up slowly, stretching slightly. Mornings are better the earlier they start, so it doesn’t surprise me that I’m up at the crack of dawn. I look down beside me. Rakan is still fast asleep. Understandable; he usually stays up making sure I fall asleep before him. 

Cute.

Well, breakfast is my call this morning. I get up, dusting myself off and taking a stroll by the nearby river. Fish sounded alright…again. I take another glance behind me at Rakan. His chest rises and falls evenly—he’s completely knocked out. We have nowhere to go before late noon, so there is really no point in waking him up right away. I decide to clean my feathers, not exactly wanting to go back to sleep.

When I get close enough to the water, I sit by a crevice in the ground and turn so that my side is facing the stream. I bend over sideways so that my left shoulder is facing the ground, and I dip my cloak in, feathers and all. Scrubbing gently, I begin removing dirt and grime from in between each feather, listening to the running water and chirping birds in the background.

It takes me about half an hour before I am done, and I turn around again. Rakan is still asleep. I could always start catching the fish for breakfast, so that is what I do.

Catching fish is not so hard when you have talons as toes. Stomping deep into the river, I catch a meal’s worth of food and head back to the campsite, arms full. This takes me around another half hour, and by the time I get back, my arms and legs smell of fish and blood. 

Rakan is still asleep. I look up to the sun; it is still quite early. While Rakan never wakes up as early as I do, he is usually still up soon after the sun rises, so this concerns me slightly. I sit down next to him, using a large, wet oak leaf to wash my arms. Another ten minutes go by before I am done, and I sigh, dropping the leaf to my side.

“Rakan,” I utter, placing a hand to his arm. Surprisingly, it is warm to the touch. He doesn’t respond, and my concern quickly grows. Frowning, I put a hand to his forehead, and then to his cheek—he is definitely warmer than he should be. I pull my hand back, worry beginning to gnaw at my thoughts. I, myself, have not been ill since I was a small child, and I had my father to take care of me. I can’t remember the last time I was stricken with a fever. I’m not sure when the last time Rakan was sick, either, so there is not much I know how to do. I am many things. A fighter, a marksman, a rebel. A caretaker, I am not. I shake his shoulder once or twice, and this seems to do the trick. Rakan’s eyes flutter open (sending my own heart a flutter, but I’ll never tell him) and he looks at me with a smile.

* * *

Something’s loud. And annoying.  _ But _ , it sounds like my name, so I guess I should comply. Better yet, it sounds like  _ Xayah _ saying my name, so double on the compliance. I open my eyes to see none other than the rebel herself, crouching over me. I smile at her—when is it a wrong time to smile at her?—before realising she has a look of concern on her face.

“You okay?” I asked, and  _ damn _ , I do  _ not _ sound as sexy as I usually do. Xayah smirks some before sitting up straight, bringing a hand to her chin.

“I should be asking you that,” she says.

This confuses me. I am Rakan. Of course I’m okay. I’m  _ always _ okay!

“Why?” I ask her, and she rolls her eyes. Enough with the mind games woman, just answer me!

“You’re warm,” she says, bringing her hand out in front of her. Ah. I thought I felt her cooling touch not too long ago.

“It’s warm out,” I counter, “are you  _ not _ warm?”

“Not as warm as you are.” She says, and now she looks kind of angry. “I think you may be—” Oh,  _ hell _ no. I know what she’s going to say!

“I’m not sick.”

She looks at me a moment, wondering what to say. 

“You’re not?” She asks, and I could swear there’s a hint of…  _ sarcasm _ in her voice.

“I am not.”

“You don’t sound ‘not sick’.” She retorts, using some weird human thing called  _ air quotes _ . Surely she picked it up from her travels, but I will never understand the point of  _ sarcasm _ and  _ air quotes _ . Why can’t people just be honest with each other? Oh. Wait.

“I might be.” Curse me and my flawless logic. 

“I thought so.” She says, smirking again. I love it when she does that. It reminds me of me. Regardless, I stand up, stretch my arms out in front of me, and yawn. 

“Plans for today?” I ask, continuing my stretching beside Xayah. She says nothing for a moment, so I turn around, and she has her hands on her hips.

“Rest.” She says. She points to me, then to the ground.

“ _ Me _ ?  _ Rest _ ?” I ask in disbelief. She can’t  _ possibly _ assume that I, Rakan, could simply ‘rest’.

…

It seems like her air quote habit has rubbed off on me.

“Yes. You. Rest.” She replies, mocking my tone.

“Rakan does not _ — _ ” Before I can continue, Xayah cuts me off.

“Stop talking in the third person, and yes, you  _ do _ .” She says. I sigh. I guess there is no countering Xayah.

* * *

Rakan is an idiot. He claimed to not be sick, but immediately after forcing him to rest, he fell asleep. It has been three hours, and he still hasn’t woken up, which worries me. I look at the sky, and the position of the sun tells me it’s nearly noon. The fish from breakfast have been long forgotten about—I suppose they can make a good supper for tonight. I continue shredding at the stick I found close by with a rock, making some kind of… stake? I am not sure, but things are boring when you have to sit and watch over your sick lover.

Rakan grunts suddenly, and I drop my makeshift stake and crawl over to him. He is on his side, and his face is scrunched up. I frown, his expression pulling at my heartstrings. I place a hand to his cheek, as I did earlier, only to find it much warmer than before. 

“Crap.” I don’t want to wake him, but I feel like doing so is my only option. He needs fluids, and possibly some food, and he can’t do that while asleep. Just as I did before, I shake his shoulder in hopes to wake him. “ _ Mieli _ ,” I call, “wake up.” He groans slightly; I can tell he does not want to be woken. This goes on for a minute or so before his eyes open slowly. He looks confused for a moment, but when we lock eyes, he visibly relaxes.

“Xayah,” he says weakly. I shush him, nudging closer to him and lowering myself to his level. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.

“Your fever is rising,” I tell him, worried. “You need some water.” He says nothing for a moment, and I think him to be asleep, but he sighs softly.

“I’d love some water.” He responds, putting his hand on top of mine. I smile at him, and he smiles back, and for an instant, I almost forget the water. Reminding myself of what I need to do, I get up, and his arm lingers in the air for a moment, as if reaching out to me. I smile again and wave a hand at him, signalling that I’ll only be a minute.

I make my way to the stream with one of the flasks. When I open it, I immediately recognise it as Rakan’s. The smell of wine fills my nostrils, and I frown, dipping the container into the river. The last time we had wine was probably two moons ago; had Rakan not filled his canister since? After rinsing it out a bit, I plunge back into the stream and let the flask fill with the cool water. Rakan was right; it was decently warm out, so the cold water feels great in between my fingers.

I walk back to my love, and he is sitting up when I get there. His knees are brought up to his chest, and one hand pulls at the grass while the other keeps his head propped up. The image reminds me of a child, though Rakan reminding me of a child is nothing new, considering the way he acts sometimes. I wordlessly hand him the water, and he nods his thanks, gulping it down greedily. When he’s done, he tosses the canister beside him, and he lays back down, putting his head on my lap.

“Tired?” I ask, as I begin to weave my hands through his hair and feathers. Without even trying, I accidentally pluck out a quill. This is odd, considering it usually takes more effort than that, and I figure it must have to do with being ill.

“Mhm,” he replies, placing a hand to where I had possibly caused him pain. 

“Did the water feel nice, at least?” I question, hoping to have helped a little. Probably sensing my thoughts, he sits up quickly and turns to face me.

“Yes, thank you.” He says sincerely, cupping one of my cheeks. I almost laugh; it’s as if he was worried he had forgotten to thank me. He is probably thinking that I didn’t feel that he appreciated me.

“Of course, darling.” I reply softly. He lays back down again, his head back on my thighs. 

A moment of silence goes by, then two, then three. I assume he’s fallen asleep again, but he rolls onto his back to look up at me directly.

“Xayah,” he all but sputters. Hell, do those blue eyes look exhausted.

“Hm?”

“I feel like crap,” he admits, sighing. “What were we supposed to do today?” 

I’m almost annoyed with him—he always forgets our plans—but I can never hold a grudge on him, especially while he is sick.

“Cross the other side of the river, infiltrate a possibly run-down marketplace, and see if any refugees may still wander there.” I explain, looking down at him.

“Sounds nice.” He replies. “Sorry about ruining that.” He adds, frowning.

“Don’t worry about that,” I counter, “worry about feeling better.”

He’s about to respond, but suddenly, I hear something from the bushes not too far from us. I immediately put a finger to his lips and dart my eyes towards the direction of the sound. From under my hands, I feel Rakan’s ears twitching—he heard it too. He turns onto his stomach and props himself up, standing straight. I get up, too, and glance at him quickly. He’s staring into the bush just as I was a moment prior.

“You heard that too?” He asks, looking at me. I nod. He turns his attention back to the bush, eyes narrowing.

The noise repeats, louder this time. I quickly pull my cloak in front of me, plucking out a few feathers. Rakan steps forward, and I can’t help but notice he needs to steady himself slightly as he gets into a fighting position. I push the thought to the back of my head; mentioning it could honestly cause more damage than repair. 

We stay in position a few seconds more, and we nod at each other. I throw a warning feather to the bottom of the bush, and it sticks out of the ground. Nothing happens for a second, but then, the shrub shakes a bit. I look at Rakan questioningly, and he copies my expression, shrugging. We both look back at the shrub, and I’m about to throw another warning feather, but a rabbit hops out from behind the bush. 

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

We both sigh, but I can’t help but laugh. It was normal for us to be prepared for anything, but it’s been a while since those skills were…  _ over _ used. I roll my eyes, shaking my head slightly.

“It was just a—”

I turn my head to address Rakan, but he’s leaning against a nearby tree, slouched over. I dash to him, just in time to support him up as his legs give out.

“I just got up too fast,” he explains, standing up straight with my help.

I'm about to retort, but the sound from before continues. I whip my head around, and the rabbit is scurrying away. 

There must be something else. 

"We're not alone." Rakan says, pushing away from me. I nod in response.

"Who's there?" I say loudly, holding up three quills. The sound repeats, louder. Rakan grunts and lurches forward. "Rakan, wait!" I shout, extending my arm out, but he ignores me.

He lands in the bush and pauses briefly before launching himself upward. Right next to him in the air is a short man clad in dark clothing and a mask.

Rakan lands—all but gracefully—and nearly crashes to the ground. The man next to him is dazzled, and he puts a hand to his head in confusion. I run up to the two, helping Rakan up and staring down the intruder.

"Nice work, babe." I mumble, holding him up from his back and chest. What usually takes him little to no effort is now draining him of his energy, and he pants heavily. He brings an arm up shakily, pointing vaguely in the direction of the perpetrator in front of us.

“Who… who’re you?” He says between breaths.

The guy straightens up and clears his throat. He fidgets with something on his waist, and I immediately recognise what’s going on.

“Shadow acolyte,” I hiss. “The Order of the Shadow sent you.” 

The man looks up from his waist and directly at me. Because there is a mask covering the majority of his face, I can only guess he is shocked from the way his eyes widen. He must not have counted on me figuring him out so quickly.

“I wasn’t  _ sent _ by anyone.” He spits, “I came on my own accord.” I’m about to yell back, but Rakan is way ahead of me. He swats me away and steps forward, angered.

“I’ll be damned if you think we believe you for one second!” He shouts. The feathers on his head puff upward slightly, and his ears point downward. “Why are you here? What do you want?!” He says, pulling out his pocket mirror from the sack on his waistband. He tosses it up and down in his hand—a habit I’ve come to notice he succumbs to when angry or in a fight. Keeps him focused, I suppose.

“I am here because I am, and I don’t want anything.” The acolyte replies, eyes narrowing. Rakan starts walking up to him slowly.

“If you don’t want anything then I guess you could be on your way,  _ right _ ?” The venom is dripping from his words at this point, and if I don’t stop him now, things could get messy.

“Honey, that’s enough—”

“They don’t just  _ show up _ , Xayah!” He yells, turning to face me. His face is flushed and his cheeks are red, but this apparently isn’t enough to tame is anger.

“I know they don’t, but we are in no condition to fight.” I remind him. To this, the shadow bastard raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not?” He asks. I shake my head. He smiles and nods, putting his hands to his waist. “Well. As I said, I want nothing, so I will be on my way.” He turns around and begins to walk away, but I throw three feathers in front of his path. Startled, he turns to look at me, but before he can react, I pull the feathers back in my direction, rooting him in place.

“You’re going back to report this information to your higher ups.” I say.

“I don’t have to.” The acolyte replies, smirking. A moment later, he throws down a smoke bomb. I wave away the smoke, and I hear Rakan coughing behind me. When the smoke settles, the acolyte is gone.

What he said makes me uneasy. He clearly referred to spies of some sort, which is odd considering Rakan and I are usually very well hidden. We never stay in a place for more than two moons, really. We must have been followed from our previous location.

“We’re being spied on,” I conclude aloud. I turn around to face Rakan, and he nods in agreement.

“Obviously,” he says, “so what’s the plan?”

“We move.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The duo meet Jyval--someone who can apparently help Rakan--and though his intentions appear innocent enough, the dude is weirder than Xayah without purple feathers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: if u get a notif for something, its bc i just edited some stuff in this chapter. mostly grammar and a teeny tiny plot hole that most ppl probs didnt even notice anyway :3
> 
> i had this chapter ready for eons and then never posted it oops.  
> anyway here u go <33

It’s been a little over an hour since we left our previous camp. I can tell because the sun peeks through the tops of the trees and onto my face. The warmth is lovely; not too hot to be uncomfortable, and not too bright to make me squint. 

I stop abruptly when I hear Rakan grunt behind me and I turn around. He is bent over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily and sweating and an alarmingly worrying rate considering we are only walking. I am about to call out to him but he looks up at me.

“Xayah,” he says, shaking his head. I understand him immediately and wrap an arm around his shoulders, the other supporting his chest, and we both sink to the ground slowly. He trembles beneath my touch, and so I wrap my cloak around him. I keep one arm supporting him up and with the other, I place a palm to his forehead. I am not pleased.

Something must be wrong, because he is even warmer than before. His fever has only gone up since he woke up. His breathing is calmer now, but he shivers still, so I stay close. 

Suddenly, a golden ray reflects off of an object sticking out of the ground, catching the corner of my eye. I cock my head to the side, inspecting it from a distance, before realising it is an arrow. I whisper soft assurances to Rakan and get up, watching the arrow suspiciously as if it may launch at me.

I kneel down in front of it, narrowing my eyes. No mistake; that's definitely from a Shadow Acolyte. I curse under my breath, but the anger is soon replaced with curiosity as I notice a dirty sheet of paper struck by the arrow. Removing the metal offender, I toss it to the side and snatch the paper up. At first, I want to skim, but I catch a word that makes me start from the beginning and read the entire thing over as carefully as I could.

_Rebel,_

_No doubt you will find this_

_But by now it is too late_

_So watch as your Charmer_

_Loses his fate_

I whip my head around to check on Rakan. He is still on the ground, but he is now leaning against a tree with his eyes closed. I keep reading.

_Two moons and three days_

_Is all it will take_

_Do not be a fool_

_See what time could make_

_Do not trust anyone_

_Do not drink the wine_

_Do not use the canister_

_If you wish for more time_

_I know not who poisoned him_

_Though I do know of the plans_

_So if you wish to see him again_

_Put the matter into my hands_

_When the sun reaches its peak_

_Cross the forest to the north_

_Make haste and come alone_

_Or it will not be what it's worth_

_Jyval_

Rakan...had been poisoned. According to this mystery letter, we had two moons and three days to help him. Or else…

Well, this Jyval person had not written what would happen. I look up, a new panic rising in my chest. The sun was definitely at its peak; I must decide.

First, though, I must tell Rakan what is happening.

I walk back to him, hearing his wheezing a mile away. I kneel down in front of him and cup a hand to his cheek.

“Honey,” I say softly, “are you alright?” A slight nod. He opens his ocean blues and looks at me as if silently pleading for help. I swallow hard. “Look at this,” I order, giving him the paper. I give his delirious eyes a moment to read it, and they widen with each word. Around halfway through, a hand absently goes to the canister attached to his waist, and for a second, his eyes water.

I could tell he had not finished, because at one point he simply shoves the paper in my general direction, shaking his head.

“ _Miella_ ,” he says hoarsely, “am I gonna die?” 

My heart goes out to him. During battle, he makes death jokes all the time--complaining how he’s too good looking to die, or how he’d only die to protect me, or some other silly thing. Now, though, he looks genuinely concerned for his safety. Honestly, I can’t blame him.

“No, _mieli_. Of course not.” I reply, angry with whoever has done this. “The sun is nearly at its highest peak. The person who wrote this letter--Jyval--says to meet them now. If we leave through the north of the forest, they should be waiting for us on the outside. We must make sure we aren’t followed, though.” I explain, knowing how he had probably skipped that last part.

“And if its a bluff?” He says, shifting his position to sit up. “What if they’re just planning an ambush? That dude who came to us just a few hours ago totally knows our location and could be messing with us.” He explains. Suddenly, though, something clicks.

“Did you not see his reaction to when I said we were in no condition to fight?” 

_\----“You’re not?” He asks. I shake my head. He smiles and nods, putting his hands to his waist. “Well. As I said, I want nothing, so I will be on my way.” ----_

Rakan nods slowly as if coming to an understanding.

“And when I mentioned that he would tell his higher ups about us?”

_\----“I don’t have to.” The acolyte replies, smirking. A moment later, he throws down a smoke bomb.----_

Again, Rakan nods, and his eyes widen in realisation. I go on.

“We weren’t being spied on...he was checking to make sure the poison had affected you. He had nothing to tell his higher ups, just that it was _working._ ”

“Which is why he didn’t attack or anything.” Rakan adds, standing up slowly. I copy him, watching him carefully to make sure he doesn’t collapse. “He was wasting our time by getting us to move when we were perfectly safe where we were.” He subconsciously reaches for his pocket mirror and starts tossing it up and down. He’s working himself up. “It was in the wine.” He continues. “And I hadn’t filled the canister after we had that wine two moons ago,” he looks at me now. “I hadn’t washed it out of my system. It was in the _wine._ And I had white and you had red and it was _in the damn wine_.” He’s aggressive, but his words are barely louder than a whisper. While one hand continues juggling his mirror, the other runs through his hair. A few feathers fall to the ground gently, but he takes no notice and his hand drops to his side one more, leaving red plumes puffed and threatening. “Xayah, I’m a fucking idiot.” He says finally.

“You’re not an idiot.” I say, crossing my arms. “Neither of us had any idea. We must be more careful from now on.” I caution, voice low. “And obviously we have to pay a kind dues, right?” I say slyly, smiling. Rakan smiles back at me and nods slightly

“Oh, definitely. Wouldn’t be very polite of us to not return the gift.” He says, punching one hand into the other. I hadn’t even noticed he had put away his pocket mirror.

I roll my eyes, thankful that he seems to feel well enough to crack a few jokes. I usher him forward and we begin walking north, following the rays of the sun.

* * *

It takes a while to cross the forest. The sun is bright and loud; it’s probably a bit past noon. It’s not quite at it’s highest point, but it will be soon. The heat becomes a little uncomfortable now, and as I steal a glance behind me, I can tell Rakan agrees. He’s not complaining, but he’s huffing and puffing and a feather gently sways below him every now and then. He’s been quiet for the past 10 minutes or so, which is odd for him, but I don’t question it as we keep moving forward.

Eventually, probably around half an hour into our trek, he hums uncomfortably, trying to get my attention.

“You okay?” I say, stopping to turn around. 

He doesn’t seem any worse than before, which I take as good news. He doesn’t, however, appear any better, either. 

“I’ve uh, felt better.” He says, putting a hand to his head. “Sorry. Let’s keep going.” He mumbles with a slight slur. That’s concerning.

“No, honey, it’s alright. Let’s take a break.” I look up at the sky quickly to try and judge how much longer we have until we need to meet Jyval. I conclude that we probably have another half hour.

Wordlessly, which adds to my list of concerns, he nods and drops down to sit back against a tree. I sit down next to him, and he rests his head on my shoulder.

“Do we have time to be doing this?” He asks.

“We have around thirty minutes.” I explain. “Close your eyes. Rest.” I instruct.

He says nothing again, but complies and closes his eyes. I can feel the heat radiating off of him, but it doesn’t seem any worse than it did earlier today. 

I can tell after a few minutes that he’s knocked out. His breathing evens out and his body is limp against mine. I pull him closer and gently run a hand through his hair. It’s soft, and the hair by his ears is fuzzy. The red plumage above his forehead is a lot less voluminous than before, but they’ll grow back eventually.

After what I assume to be around ten minutes, I nudge him a bit.

“Rakan, time to get going.” I tell him.

He groans slightly; probably not liking the idea of waking up.

“I’d carry you if I could, _mieli_.” I say sadly. To this, he humphs. 

“I’d carry you even if I couldn’t.” He says, opening his eyes.

“Then you wouldn’t be able to carry me.” I retort, smiling. 

“I’d make it work.” He says, watching me as I stand up. He copies me and stretches a bit before we continue walking. “Maybe if I forged a shield around you, and carried that.” He thinks aloud.

“Wouldn’t that just make me heavier?” 

“I’d heal you, too.” He adds, summoning a bright orange feather into the palm of his hand.

“Without anyone around?” I challenge him, smirking. His feather is useless without having hit someone else and stolen their energy first. He shrugs.

“I’d make it work.” He says again, the feather disappearing from his grasp.

For the first time since he had woken up this morning, Rakan seems... _normal._ He’s talkative, cocky, and finally walking without appearing on the verge of collapsing.

By the time we reach the forest’s end, however, he’s back to being quiet and begins lagging behind again. His stamina seems to only stick around for ten minutes at a time, now. At least we’ve made it to the opening. 

We step out into the clearing, amazed at how much more of the countryside we can see now. Hills litter the horizon, and the sun highlights the roofs of tall, old, buildings. A few people walk around going about their business. I breathe in; this area has yet to be corrupted. The magic here flows freely and without fear. It’s a wonderful feeling. For a second, my skin feels tingly and I hear a buzzing in my ears; almost as if the magic is making its presence known.

“Do you feel that?” I ask Rakan in awe. I turn around and catch him staring around as wide-eyed as myself.

“I do,” he replies, “it’s amazing.” He breathes. “The shadow acolytes haven’t made it here.”

“Yet.” I add, regrettably, as I see a mother and daughter walking hand-in-hand toward a bakery.

“Never say never.” Rakan replies, leaning close to me. I laugh.

“I didn’t. I said _yet_.” I clarify, taking his hand in mine. “C’mon, let’s find Jyval.”

We begin walking east, following the barrier of trees that separated the forest and the small town. We had definitely exited through the north, but heading east or west was something that Jyval was unclear of.

Rakan follows me quicker now. The magic in the air is definitely helping him; he puffs and huffs less and his voice doesn’t slur so much when he speaks.

We continue walking for another five minutes or so before someone calls something out that startles both of us.

“Rebel? Charmer?”

Unless you knew us specifically, or had heard of our cause, nobody called us that.

Momentarily shaken, we both turn around. I summon a few quills and keep my hand hidden behind my cloak. I turn around sharply, Rakan following suite.

“Yeah, and what of it?” I spit, ready for a fight.

In front of us is a short man, probably about four feet tall. He is dressed in vibrant, obnoxious colours. His hair is styled into a high ponytail that dropped well below his waist. He sports large, circular glasses with thick rims. He has on a backpack with a few rolled up papers sticking out, and a belt with a few bottles attached.

“Ah, no need to be so hostile!” He squeals, nearly falling over. “It is me! Jyval!” He holds out a laminated identification card. Sure enough, there is his picture and his name. “See? Me! Jyval!”

I roll my eyes. Rakan does this enough; I didn’t need a stranger constantly spewing out his name in the third person, too.

“You’re the one who wrote the pretty poem!” Rakan exclaims suddenly from my side. “Hi, I’m Rakan. I am what some call, a _charmer_.” He says smoothly, pushing his cloak backward dramatically. 

“Ugh. Xayah.” I introduce, short and to the point.

“I expected you two to be…” Jyval begins, waving his hand around in front of him. “Taller.”

I raise an eyebrow incredulously. 

“Um… we’re… sorry?”

“Not a problem.” Jyval responds. He then disappears in a flash before reappearing right next to Rakan. He adjusts his glasses and sniffs loudly.

“Hm. Yes. So, you are the infected one, correct?”

“I am! How’d you know?” Rakan says, slapping a smile onto his face.

Wait, that’s actually a good question.

“He’s right.” I say. “How did you know about the wine? The poison?” I ask, suspicious.

“Ah. Listen.” He says before pausing. I am about to interrupt him to say I was listening, but he continues after a moment. “I come from an interesting line of work. We develop patented potions for mages and marksmen alike. We create healing potions, mana potions,” he begins taking some out of his belt and giving them to Rakan and me. “I’ve got one that can make you strong, oh but that’s temporary. It’s also more of an elixir than a potion.” He rambles, handing it to me. “Oh! This one makes you big!” He says, shoving that one into Rakan’s arms. “But also only temporary.”

“Um--” 

“This one can let you see things that would otherwise be invisible to the naked human eye.” He explains, adding it to the pile of viles in my hand.

“We’re not humans, but that sounds _pre-tty_ dope.” Rakan admits, taking it from me and inspecting it.

“Oh! We haven’t used this one in a while, but it makes your mana last longer.” Jyval continues, tossing the bottle behind him. Rakan charges towards it and catches it in the blink of an eye.

“Um, Jyval--?”

“This one was discontinued. It was supposed to make people fall in love with you, but it just gave people crazy butt rashes. It was very unpleasant.” He winces and throws the bottle behind him yet again.

I drop all the bottles in my arms, some breaking on impact with the ground, others rolling away unscathed, and a few bouncing a few times before settling on the grass.

“Jyval!” I say loudly, earning the stares of both the man in question and of Rakan.

“Ah. Yes. I’ve done it again.” He mumbles, hurriedly picking up a few of the bottles and putting them back onto his belt. “My apologies. I do love potions and elixirs. I believe they truly are a--”

“Jyval.” I interrupt again, crossing my arms. He huffs and stands up straight, fiddling with his glasses.

“Right. Anyway. You are the infected one, Mr. Rakan?” He says, hands now empty. 

“Please, Mr. Rakan was my father.” The peacock jokes in reply. “Just call me _Rakan_.” He pronounces his name with a certain type of elegance that only he could pull off. Jyval nods eagerly.

“ _Rakan_ …” He imitates, awed. “Yes. Rakan. Your wine was poisoned by one of my colleagues. I do not know whom, but I found their plans laying around in the break room not too long ago.” He explains, pulling a folded up paper from his backpack. He hands it to me delicately, as if it could break. He urges me to open it, so I do. In it, I find a recipe for mulled wine.

“This is just a drink.” I say, confused.

“To the normal eye, yes.” Jyval corrects, frowning. “This mulled wine recipe was used in our elixirs for poison. They were discontinued, for different reasons than the love potion.” He says, visibly shuddering. “They were too strong and worked too quickly. I was quite new to the potion scene when this happened. It was nearly like an epidemic; people were falling ill left and right. So, we stopped producing the potion. Others found ways to mask its taste and texture as wine, and so, once I saw these plans in the break room, I knew someone was up to no good.”

As he continued his explanation, Rakan remained quiet. I was unsure what he was thinking; he could be pretty good at masking his emotions.

“There was a wanted poster for you,” Jyval says, pointing at Rakan. “Apparently you wrecked an entire pub here a few weeks ago with one of your…” he pauses to adjust his glasses, “dance routines.”

“Hey!” Rakan says suddenly, taking a step forward. “They are much more than just _dance routines_.” He defends, like a child. “Ionians dance to communicate. To express feelings. To create awe and wonder. To inspire others. To relive the birth of magic. To--”

“Yes, yes. Your little dance number ruined the pub. Guests fought over you which led to the destruction of tables, counters, and a count of missing alcoholic beverages.” Jyval says, interrupting him.

Rakan hums in response, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. 

“So… I ruined a few tables and such. I deserve to die, apparently?” He questions sarcastically.

Jyval shrugs and takes the recipe back from me.

“A number of our employees partner up with pubs, for obvious reasons.” He says, stuffing the paper into his pocket. “We supply barkeeps with various types of potions that they can pour into their drinks for their patrons. In return, their patrons pay them kindly with extra gold. In fact, I would say one of our top buyers is the pub _you_ destroyed with your little dance.”

“Again, Ionian magic, but okay.” Rakan says, slightly ticked off.

“But why would one of your coworkers care about some random pub?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. Jyval is starting to seem too suspicious for my liking.

“It could be that the barkeep paid him a hefty price to get the job done.” Jyval answers. “Your wanted poster was found right next to the recipe, so I quickly put two and two together. I decided to interview a few of our common buyers, one of which was the pub from the wanted poster. The barkeep did not seem too keen on ever seeing your face again, Mr. Charmer.” Jyval explains. “I never got to the bottom of _who_ did this, but I did get to the bottom as to _why_. I was then able to send off my arrow to your nearest location via this.” He pulls out a bottle that appeared frozen over. Inside, a single pale blue feather sat upright.

 _His_ arrow? I could have sworn the arrow we had found holding his note to the ground was a shadow acolyte one. Before I can question it, Rakan blurts out a comment about the blue feather.

“Hey, that’s--!”

“One of Queen Ashe’s enchanted hawkshot feathers.” Jyval finishes for him. “Used to locate enemies during war. Knowing the name of someone and having one of these can make it incredibly easy to locate them.” He says, putting the bottle away.

“Okay, so what exactly do we do now?” I ask.

Jyval hums and brings a hand to his chin. He glances over at Rakan, looking him up and down.

“Please list your symptoms.” He says finally, taking out a pad and pen from seemingly nowhere.

Rakan switches his balance from one leg to the other nervously.

“I’ve been unconscious for like, half of the day.” He replies. “Xayah?” He tries, looking at me. I smile softly and shake my head.

“Where to start? Fever, fatigue, premature molting, low energy, lethargic--”

“I’m not as sexy,” Rakan cuts in, devastated. “Do you _hear_ my voice?” He clears his throat a bit to emphasise his point.

Jyval struggles to keep up, but successfully writes down all the symptoms. He hums a few “hmms” and “ahhs” and mutters a “yes” a few times, before putting the pad in his pocket and looking back at us with a smile.

“Well?” I ask.

“Ah! Right. Well. I believe there is treatment for this poison.” He begins, tapping at his chin again.

“Uh, _believe_?” Rakan asks, nervous. Jyval nods eagerly.

“Well, yes. The issue is that it is merely treatment; not a cure. The poison in your system will still have to run its course for a few days. Treatment, however, will ease symptoms and prevent, erm. Well, you know.”

“A tragic, unsexy death.” Rakan finishes, biting his lip. “Yeah. Got it.”

“Do you have the potion now?” I ask, ignoring Rakan for a moment. 

“Oh, no, of course not. What am I, some kind of potion dispensary?” He laughs. “But it shan’t take long to develop one. I’d say it’d be ready by tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Rakan echoes.

“What if that’s, you know…” I trail off, uncertain.

“Ah, no. This poison was created with a slow, painful death in mind. Oh, the wonders of science and magic combined! Truly a fantastic medium to dwell in.” Jyval explains a little too excitedly. “For the interim, I suggest typical ailment-treating methods. Rest, fluids, perhaps some science-based remedies.”

“Pain killers.” I correct.

“Ugh, yes, _those_. I do not understand the concept of leaving science un-meddled with. Why not combine it with magic for extra _oomph_? Without magic, science would just be science!”

“Oh, no, the horror.” I mockingly chime in.

“Right?! Anyway. Will you two be in need of a place to stay for the night?” He asks sincerely. Rakan and I look at each other, then back to Jyval. We nod. “Excellent. I have just the place!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birds find a place to stay for the night whilst Jyval attempts to create the right potion that could help heal Rakan. However, he's beginning to be a little bit too suspicious, and Xayah doesn't like it.
> 
> Featuring griffon form Rakan! :D

After following Jyval to the nearest inn, he fled quickly to his place of work to get started on the remedy potion. Rakan and I paid the front desk a couple hundred gold before heading to our room.

“How do we know we can trust that guy?” Rakan asks, balancing a feather in his hand.

“We  _ don’t  _ know.” I reply. “But this is our best bet. He’s kinda weird, but I think he may be on to something.”

“You’re not usually one to trust so easily,  _ miella. _ ” He states. “Are you sure about this?” The feather he had been playing with dissipates into thin air, and he turns to face me from his spot on the bed.

I pause for a moment. No, I’m not sure. Not by a long shot. Jyval appears to be human, and it is  _ very _ hard to trust them. Half of them want to harvest magic for their own selfish purposes, and the other half don’t even know it exists. Even Ionian humans are hard to trust.

But… at this point, Jyval is our only lead. We could probably go to a healer, but this town is so small that the chances of finding one nearby are slim to none. It would take us over our time limit to get to the next town over, and I don’t want to know what would happen to Rakan if we didn’t make it there in time.

Our only chance right now was Jyval. He’s quirky and odd, but he certainly knows what he’s talking about. Or, at least, he knows how to fake it like he does. 

I remain quiet a moment longer, looking over to Rakan. He seems to be okay for now, but his cheeks are flushed and his face is pale. He’s quiet, but his chest is moving too quickly for my comfort; he’s struggling to breathe.

And that’s when I realise--this is just like any other time we dive head first into a battle. Just like any other time we weren’t sure if we were coming out alive. The difference this time is that our enemy is invisible, and it’s rendering one of us unfit for battle.

“No.” I say aloud, finally. “Do you have any better ideas?” It comes across as rude, but I mean the question genuinely.

“I don’t.” He replies softly.

We say nothing for a moment. I sit by the window in the room, staring outside. The sun has long since been at its highest peak. It’s less hot out, now, and so the warmth from the rays of light is quite nice. I close my eyes for a second, enjoying the nice feeling.

I’m suddenly interrupted by the sound of Rakan jolting up and knocking over one of our bags. I turn around and give him a look, expecting an explanation.

“Sorry, I…” His eyes dart around the room a second, frantically in search of something, and he swallows thickly. “I’m uh...” He swallows again and drops to the bed. “Is there a bucket in here?”

Oh.

“Hey, relax.” I get up and walk over to him. He’s sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

“I hate this.” He says shakily. 

This is so unlike him. I’m not sure how poison affects us Vastaya, but it certainly seems to be doing a number on him. I have no idea what to do.

“I know, honey.” I say, trying to muster a calm tone. I’m not the greatest at being affectionate, but fortunately, my gentleness reaches him and he sighs.

I scoot closer to him and rub his back. There isn’t much I can do; our only option right now was to get him some rest, fluids, and some pain killers.

“Maybe more than I hate humans.” He thinks aloud. He removes his head from his hands and faces me. “I hate this more than I  _ love _ chocolate.” At least he’s talkative. “Remember the tubebows? Those were cool. I hate this more than I loved those.” I can’t tell if he’s rambling, or if he’s trying to distract himself. Or both.

“Wow. You really hate this.” I say, gesturing to him.

“No, no, not  _ this _ .” He gestures to himself. “I’ll always love this.” He’s talking about his body. I let out a laugh. “Like, y’know. The crappy poison thing.”

“Yes, I gathered that.” I reply, chuckling.

I begin to wonder if holding these forms for this long in his condition could weaken him.

“Do you want to…” I point to our cloaks. He instantly gets what I mean.

“But this form is so sexy.” He says sadly. I laugh again.

“Maybe so, but it’s also draining. Especially for you right now. Your mana count is probably very low; did you even consider that?”

As if mocking my statement, he summons an orange quill and lets it run through his fingers.

“No, no I haven’t.” He smirks. “I have mana for days.”

As if on queue, the feather vanishes.

“I have mana for a few hours.” He corrects.

I look around before getting up and closing the window blinds. I lock the door and sit back down.

“Nobody’s looking.” I confirm.

He sighs.

He glows orange for a moment, and then a bright light takes over the room. All I see and feel is yellow, orange, warmth, and honey. 

When the light settles down, I look down to my lap. There he is. 

He’s probably the size of a large yordle. His tail is long and delicate, small plumes enveloping it in its entirety, and his peacock feathers decorate his wings delicately. His hind legs’ talons dig into the bed, and his front fox paws find their way onto me. He leans his head down, and I can see his furry fox ears and small peacock beak. He’s adorable.

“I forget how small we actually are.” I laugh.

He gives me a look and pouts.

“I don’t like this idea. Can we try something else?” He says through his tiny beak.

His tail is tucked between his hind legs, and his front paws rest on my thighs. It’s only the second, maybe third time he’s shown me his griffon form. He’s much too proud of his humanoid form to change out of it. I have to say the same though; he’s probably only seen my real identity about as much as I’ve seen his.

“No. Not until we get a hold of that potion.”

His ears twitch in annoyance, and he spreads open his sunset orange wings as if he was doing so with his arms.

“I have to stay like this until tomorrow morning?!” He squawks. (Semi-literally).

To us Vastaya, our true form is typically kept secret in order to avoid being captured or sold. Our wings and fur are quite valuable on the human black market, and so we usually choose a humanoid form to keep people from knowing who we really are. It’s almost a shame to switch back; as if admitting defeat. So I understand how he feels. 

“Yes.” I reply. 

“Ouch. My  _ dignity _ .” He says, tucking into himself. I place a hand on his back. His fur is warm and his feathers are soft.

“Do you feel any better though?” I question, petting him slowly.

“Not particularly.” He replies. “So… can I change back then?” He pushes himself up, pawing at my chest. His tail swishes back and forth a bit, and his wings twitch excitedly. It’s starting to be a little too much to handle; the cuteness, that is.

“No.” I reply firmly. At this point, I’m unsure if I want him to stay like this longer simply because its cute, or if I actually think it may help. “The point wasn’t to make you feel any better.”

“But you just asked me if I--”

“The point was to conserve mana.”

“I  _ have _ enough mana!” He argues, voice raised slightly. As if to try and prove his point, he hops off the bed and onto the ground. “Watch!”

He dashes forward, and similarly to when in his humanoid form, he launches up in the air; nearly bringing me up with him. He lands gracefully, then charges at me, encasing me in a pale orange forcefield. He leaves me again and summons an orange feather, but before he can continue, he’s heaving. The feather disappears as quickly as it had come into existence. The forcefield around me fizzes out into nothing.

“I’m watching.” I say dryly.

“Wait,” he barks, hopping on the bed again. He then puts a single paw to my arm, and I feel a sudden surge of magic flow through me. I stand up abruptly, nearly knocking him over in the process.

“Are you insane?!” I yell at him. Typically, in order to heal, Rakan needs to use a feather to take energy from a different source, and then convert that energy into healing magic onto his ally. What he just did, essentially, was use himself as a source just to prove a point.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He pants, his wings drooping.

“I was fine to begin with; how could I tell if it worked?!” I rage, fists forming at my sides.

“You felt the magic. Don’t lie.” He says between breaths.

I calm myself and sit back down, sighing.

“I did. But what a waste of mana that was, Rakan.” I tell him softly.

He doesn’t respond.

“Sorry.” He says after a moment. It’s quiet, and shaky. He huddles up next to me and curls into a tight ball. “I’m sorry.” He repeats.

“Hey, it’s okay.” I reply, smoothing his fur with my hand.

He hates being like this, I know. He feels vulnerable and defenseless. Most Vastaya take on a humanoid form after a certain age; seeing a Vastaya in their true form like this usually means they’re just a child, or terminally ill.

Rakan is neither.

I hope.

* * *

It’s a few hours into the afternoon when I wake up. I hadn’t even realised I had dozed off. I take a minute to wake my brain up; I open my eyes and roll over so that I can stare willfully at the ceiling. It takes a second for my brain to buzz back to life, but once it does, I remember our predicament.

Rakan’s nestled close to me, still in a tight ball. His wings are folded neatly on top of his back, and his tail feathers curl slightly toward the end. 

I smile and bring a hand to him, petting him gently. He twitches slightly in response, but otherwise remains asleep.

I get off the bed slowly and stretch. To be fair, it’s lovely having a proper bed to sleep in as opposed to setting up camp somewhere. I walk over to the window and open it a bit to get some fresh air.

A quick glance at the alarm clock by my side tells me its 2:07PM. It’s still quite early in terms of the hustle and bustle of the town, and so I see people walking around, biking around, and playing about. It’s nice to see a town so rich with magic, and to see the benefits it has on its people. Even if those people are humans.

With Rakan asleep, and stuck here until tomorrow, I hum, soft and low. I’m  _ incredibly _ bored. I don’t want to wake up Rakan, considering he needs the sleep, but I don’t have many other options in terms of entertainment. 

I opt for a walk.

I self-assess quickly; I take everything I need in a satchel, including a tiny vile of a mana potion that Jyval failed to realise he was missing. I look at it as my nails click against it in my satchel, and wonder if I should leave it or take it with me. Rakan may find it useful for when he wakes up, but one can never be too prepared--even if I’m just going for a walk. I decide to leave it behind.

Slowly, I walk out of the room, and softly close the door behind me with a small  _ click _ . When I turn around, Jyval is directly in front of me, somehow.

“Argh!” I yelp, startled. He doesn’t react, and merely adjusts his glasses.

“I require something from you. Or, rather, your mate.” He says, features showing the importance of his statement. 

I’m about to turn around and open the door to let him in, but I freeze. This man doesn’t know the extent of our form; and Rakan sure as hell wouldn’t want someone like that seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

“Um.” Think, Xayah, think.

“Just a feather.” He says, pointing to the jar in his hands. 

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. I thought he was coming to maybe ask Rakan question; why does he need a feather?

“What for?” I ask cautiously.

“DNA, of course.” Jyval replies in a heartbeat.

“Use his spit.” I retort, beginning to sound a bit  _ too _ defensive.

Jyval eyes me a moment, then looks past my shoulder briefly.

“I need the feather. I am creating this specifically for him, and therefore, his species.”

I raise an eyebrow and will a feather into my hand.

“Take this then.” I dare him.

He looks at the feather in my outstretched hand, then back to my face.

“I need one from  _ him _ .” He says after a moment.

Sighing, I let the feather vanish.

“You said his species. I am quite literally the same species as him.” I explain. “Surely my own feather is good enough?”

He averts his eyes, staring at the tiles on the ground.

“ _ He _ is the one who is currently impaired. His feathers, and thus, his DNA, are also compromised. Using yours would do me no good.” 

“Then, again, use his damn spit.” I say angrily. I hadn’t realised, but my arms are now stretched out to either side of me, protectively blocking the door. Jyval seems to notice this at the same time as I do, because he looks behind my shoulder and then back to my face.

“Is there something going on in there?” He questions.

Ugh. He is seriously way too weird for me. Not to mention he’s beginning to sound a bit too suspicious. I don’t know much about treatments or cures or potions, but I know one thing: our feathers are  _ valuable _ . Any human asking for some kind of “sample” is not to be trusted. 

“No.” I answer flatly.

“It will only take a moment--” Jyval tries to push past me, but I make a face at him somewhere in between angry and feral. My ears bend backwards, and I’m sure my grimace leaves my canines visibly threatening.

“ _ No. _ ” I repeat. 

He backs away suddenly, slightly terrified. His eyes are wide in shock, and his hands cover his chest.

“Well.” He says, fixing his posture. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t much I can do without a feather.”

We stay like this a moment: him wearily standing in front of me, and me holding my ground in front of him. Finally, I roll my eyes.

“Fine. But  _ I’ll _ go and get one.” I explain. Before he has a chance to answer, I turn around, step inside the room, and slam the door, locking it shut.

For a second, I stand behind the door and let out a breath I had no idea I was holding. For some reason, Jyval was beginning to really get under my skin.

“Xayah?” 

Woops. I guess I shouldn’t have slammed the door so hard. From his spot on the bed, Rakan’s head pops up, his ears pointing forwards at me. Ugh, he’s too cute.

“Jyval needs one of your dumb feathers for his dumb concoction.” I explain sourly.

“Oh, ok.” He summons a feather into existence, and for a second, it glows like summer and fire.

I walk over to him and give him a pat on the head with one hand, and take the feather with the other.

“I’ll be back,” I assure him.

“I know.” He replies.

He puts his head down again, and he’s seemingly asleep within seconds.

I head back to the door and open it, shoving the feather in Jyval’s general direction.

“Here.” 

“Ah, thanks.” He says, gleefully taking the feather. He drops it happily into the container he had brought with him, closes the lid tightly, and nods. “Well, I’ll be going.” He announces. “Ta ta!”

With that, he skips along the hallway and eventually turns a corner, out of my sight.

I suddenly don’t feel like going on my walk anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's dinnertime! Xayah and Rakan have been dying for a nice, hot meal. So they walk into town to fetch one! Simple, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more self-indulgence! and more of rakan's POV! 
> 
> ((yes he is 100% attracted to men too))
> 
> fyi, he won't be dying in this story. ill just slap him around a bit until they find their treatment, thats all :3c

By dinnertime, Rakan insists that he’s feeling better enough to transform back and head into town for a hot meal. I offer to go myself and bring the food back, but he’s not having any of it.

“I won’t show off, or anything.” He promises.

He means that he won’t get into any bar fights, or start dancing with strangers, or start singing to random groups of people. All these things define him, so him saying he won’t do them must mean he’s actually serious.

“Okay, okay, you can come.” I say finally, earning a giddy smile from him.

“Yeah baby!” He exclaims, jumping in the air. His body hangs in the air a second, and his form is covered in bright light all over again. In a matter of seconds, he lands slowly onto the ground, bowing. “Rakan, at your service.” He says, lifting his head up to wink at me.

I make a sound from deep in my throat that could only be described as an audible eye-roll. I shake my head and gesture for the door.

“Shall we?” I ask.

“We shall!” 

* * *

We head out into town. The sun is setting, though it is still pretty early in the evening. The nightlife of the village seems to be starting, as music can be heard from all over, and groups of friends march about with mugs of beer in their hands.

“I think we should try a--” Before Rakan can finish, I turn around and shove a finger to his lips.

“No pubs.” I declare. In response, he sighs dramatically, sagging his shoulders and rolling his eyes.

“Pleeeeeeeeease?” He says, catching up to me. He’s bending down slightly so that he can show me his hands pressed together along with his puppy-dog eyes.

“No.”

This time, he sighs for real, and straightens back up to walk beside me.

We’re quiet for a second, me having obviously destroyed his hopes and dreams, until he dashes in front of me again.

“Then what about--”

“No bars, either.”

He humphs and folds his arms, but he walks beside me regardless.

“Those places are just  _ begging _ for your attention. Out of everywhere to go tonight, could we not avoid them? Just for today.” I explain, looking at him. I hadn’t realise, but we had stopped walking right in the middle of the sidewalk. People gently shove past us, but I don’t really mind.

He frowns, but nods slowly anyway.

“Fine. So, where we headed?” He asks, all traces of disappointment gone.

Good question. We had never been here before, and this place is filled with bars and pubs on every corner. I look around a bit, trying to spot a normal, quiet restaurant. 

I see a huge, black and white sign above a door at the building down the block. I can’t really make out the lettering from here, but from what I am able to gather, it’s an eatery of some sort. Might as well try that out.

“Hey, what do you think of--” I turn around to address him, but he’s gone. “Ugh, Rakan!”

* * *

Ah, damn. I’ve wandered off again. Hey, it’s not my fault this place is filled to the brim with magic! It’s making me wanna participate in the nightlife activities! Which, to be fair, seems to only be consisting of drinking right now. 

Xayah never said I couldn’t have a drink! And I’ll be careful. I won’t pick fights or start dancing on tables or anything. I promised Xayah that much.

I turn around quickly to try and catch Xayah’s form, but she’s mostly likely noticed I’ve gotten lost and rushed off to find me, and I can’t see her. She’s probably gonna be a bit pissed at me later.

Well, maybe I can make it up to her in advance with some food or drink. Hey, this looks like a good spot!

The building looks pretty newly renovated, and there are huge open windows on the sides. I can see into the dining area, and there are people scattered around. Some are standing in groups, others are sat at tables, and a few sit around outside having a smoke.

What  _ really _ looks neat, though, is the huge glittery sign above the entrance, and the probably-fake-velvet red carpet greeting my talons on the floor.

“Red, gorgeous.” I catch myself muttering under my breath.

“Sir?”

I look up from the carpet to see a tall man dressed in all black. He has a small towel draped over his left shoulder, and his dark hair is trapped in a messy bun under a hairnet.

“Can I help you?” He asks. That’s when I realise I’ve just been staring at him.

“Hey, you’re pretty.” I tell him, nearing him. I hum aloud, and he backs off slightly.

“Um, thanks?” He clears his throat and repeats his previous question. “Can I help you?” 

I back off, remembering my manners.

“Oh! Sorry. Can I see the menu?” I ask, nodding towards the long card in his hand.

He hesitantly hands me the menu.

“Just let me know where you’d like to sit.” He reminds me. “I’ll be back in a moment.” With that, he heads back inside.

He really was good looking. Xayah missed out.

Oh, shit. Xayah!

I ditch the menu on the floor and scramble my way past the other folk lined up outside.

When I’m back onto the street, I look left and right, but there is no sign of my raven. Where’d she go?!

“Xayah?” I call out, rather loudly. I collect glances from a few people around me, but I walk past them, ignoring it. “Hey, Xayah!” I say again, hoping she is able to hear me.

After a minute or two, I think I can say I’m lost. Sigh.

It’s okay though, I have a super awesome sense of direction! Sometimes. And so does Xayah. Maybe I should just go back to the inn. We typically do that when one of us, I mean, when  _ I _ get lost. Go back to where we came from, I mean. Maybe she’s already headed there and I’m just wasting time? Yeah. I’m gonna head back.

But… where  _ is  _ back?

Okay, Rakan. Just retrace your glorious footsteps. I can see the huge glittery sign from that eatery wayyyy down the street. I’ll follow that for now. At least it’s a landmark!

The magic here really does do wonders. I don’t even feel sick anymore! Maybe we should stay here longer. I wonder if they have chocolate…

_ Woosh! _

I’m harshly anchored back to Runeterra when I feel my back slam against a brick wall behind me. I hadn’t even noticed I had closed my eyes, but when I open them again, there’s a shadow acolyte pinning me to the wall. Fuck.

“What are you doing here?” He questions me quietly. 

Y’know what, screw this guy! I’m feeling a lot better than before. Time to take him down!

“None of your  _ business _ !” I shout, dashing right under his legs. He’s caught off guard for a second, and I take that as my queue to rush in with a little display or two. I jump at his knees, crouch down, and bring him up into the air with me. 

He’s startled slightly. Good.

When I land, I bow over his crumpled form on the ground. What a production!

Before I can even say anything though, he grunts, and sweeps the leg, tripping me backwards.

“Don’t think I don’t know about your little magic tricks,  _ Charmer _ .”

Ah. That’s not good.

He pulls out two small blades from the belt around his waist, and charges at me. I dash to the left, but he was expecting it somehow, and so he’s right behind me in a split second. Quickly, I shield myself, but he was apparently expecting that too, because he leans back before throwing both blades at my feet.

My shield fizzes a little around me. He’s damaging it quicker than I thought he could.

I’ll try to take him by surprise!

I let the shield melt down completely. He wasn’t expecting  _ that _ ! 

I run past him and turn around with a jump. Quickly, I bring forth a quill and launch it at him. It bounces off his shoulder before returning to me. I accept the quick heal and keep running forward.

“You slippery bastard!” He yells, picking up his blades and coming for me again.

Typically, I can buy time for ages. Distract anyone for as long as it takes. Getting rid of them? Eh… that’s usually Xayah’s job.

I leap for him again, trying to make my decisions as spontaneous as possible. I don’t even wait to reach my full height in the air before I throw myself back down, leaving him on the ground behind me.

Crap. Even with the surge of magic in this village, I’m using heaps of mana, and I can feel it catching up to me.

He’s up again in a split second, and he drops a smoke bomb. I keep running, but the smoke does too, nearly touching my tail.

Time for one last performance. 

I stop, trying to bait him in close. He stops briefly, appearing out of the smoke. We’re in an alley, and there’s a wall behind me, so I gotta make this work, and fast.

“Give up. What are you gonna do, climb the wall?” He mocks, bringing his blades up.

“Hey, I very well could climb that wall if I wanted to!” I reply with fake disappointment.

“Then do it.” He dares, moving closer to me.

Well, here goes nothing.

I surge forward, using every last bit of mana in my system to help me, and I zoom past him. I can see myself glowing out of the corner of my eye, and I can hardly feel the sidewalk below me from how quick I’m running. I look back for a second.

He’s standing there, in awe, slowly taking a few steps forward towards me. Too bad for him, though, I’m already blocks ahead.

I find a different alley and sneak my way in, willing my glow to die down. 

I’m 99% sure I lost him, but just in case, I scale the wall quick, and slide down the opposite side. I’m closer to the forest, now, so I duck behind a few trees, and stop to catch my breath.

Distract, occupy, evade. It’s what I’m best at! Nobody could do it better!

After a moment, I accept this as a victory. No sign of him at all. 

I sigh, leaning back towards the tree behind me. The adrenaline is gone now, and I’m running on empty. I wonder if Xayah is still looking for me. She’s probably very disappointed…

“Rakan?!”

Ah. There she is. Not sure where from, but I can hear her voice. I should probably reply, but I can’t. Being an awesome entertainer comes with a price, sometimes.

“Rakan! Where are you?! Ugh, you better not be causing trouble, or I swear…!”

Gosh, her voice is so pretty. Even when she’s mad. Or worried? I dunno, I can’t tell. 

I think I can hear some grass rustling from behind me, and in a last effort attempt to protect myself, I throw up a forcefield around myself. Not sure how long it’s gonna last, but if I go out, I go out in style!

But, I think I may have actually attracted that rustling, because it turns into running and panting. 

“Rakan? Rakan!”

Oh, it was Xayah.

I feel her kneel down next to me--oh, when I did I start laying down on the grass? Mmm… kinda feels nice.

“Rakan?! Are you okay? Oh my god, what happened?!”

Oh… she’s upset.

“ ‘m sorry…” 

“What?! You idiot, don’t be sorry! Damnit, Rakan, get up, we’re going back to the inn.”

She’s holding my shoulders, I notice. I think she’s trying to get me up, but my legs feel like jelly and my brain feels like mush.

“Can’t get up,” I manage to say. 

“Change back now, Rakan! I’m going to carry you!”

Oh, no way. Not with that shadow acolyte nearby. 

“There’s… I can’t…” I pause for a moment, trying to steady my breathing. “Acolyte,” I muster out.

“What?!” Xayah stands up quickly, head swishing from left to right. 

“Not here,” I assure her. “In there… near the glitter.”

“Near the--? Rakan, please change back, we need to leave!”

I really,  _ really _ don’t want to do that. What if he comes back? I wouldn’t be able to protect Xayah…

“I’ll be fine, dumbass!”

Oh, did I say that aloud?

“Rakan, please!” She’s back on the ground by my side, again. I feel her hands tapping all over me. She’s probably looking for some kind of injury, but as far as I know, I didn’t get any. 

“Not hurt,” I tell her between breaths.

“Then get up!” She says. She hardly panics, so it’s hard to tell if she’s angry with me or something. I try to stand up, and I feel her helping me, but it takes a very long time. 

When I open my eyes, her face is directly in front of me. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and her lips are drawn into a thin line. Between the tree, and her, I’m actually standing upright.

“Hey,” she says, cupping my face with both hands. “Let’s go back, okay?” She’s trying to calm down, but I catch her eyes darting around in search of the acolyte.

She continues speaking, but it sounds like she’s underwater. Or maybe I’m the one underwater? Swimming is nice… we should probably go back to the Aphae Waterfalls again soon. Xayah likes swimming, especially there.

“Rakan!”

Oh, I’m back on the ground again. The grass still feels nice. Maybe I could take a nap. I’m sure Xayah wouldn’t mind…

“Rakan, please...!” 

I think it’s raining. I like it when it rains. But this rain is different. It’s hollow and upset.

Just a small nap…

I’m sure Xayah wouldn’t mind.


End file.
